Progression
by Naomi S. Goldson
Summary: For some, love is instant. For others, it takes a long time to learn to love another. It can be painful, but the joy brought in the end makes everything worth it. These are four moments in the progression of Hermione and George's relationship, written for the 1, 2, 3, 4 Seasons Challenge in the HPFC.
1. Winter

**"There's nowhere torun and hide when you're living to die"**

_**-Clairvoyant Disease (Avenged Sevenfold)**_

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

_December 25, 1998_

Therewere roughly a million reasons why Hermione should stay home rather thanbarging into the twins' – no, George's flat. First, that Molly had said that everyone was to leave him alone to mourn. Secondly, she would be lying to the people closest to her – she had said she had to go home for the evening after lunch rather than staying for supper as well. That and she wouldn't exactly be able to tell them she deliberately disobeyed Molly, who she had taken to calling her 'second mum' in her mind, and possibly losing their trust. Third, George and her hadn't ever really spoken, beside when she yelled at them for pulling pranks and testing on first years. Why would he want to see him, or vice versa?

However, Hermione was a girl whose stubborn nature was a force to be reckoned with and she had decided that no one should be alone on Christmas. With that thought running repeatedly through her mind, she put the ingredients for a dinner worthy of Molly in Tupperware, put them into her bag, and, taking a deep breath and steeling her nerves, apparated to Diagon Alley.

She landed outside number 93, which looked cold and miserable, the exact opposite of how Fred and George's joke shop should look. She frowned at it, but didn' tdwell long. She walked inside, locking the door behind her just in case, and ascended the hidden staircase to the flat George occupied. With one more rather frantic thought about no one being alone for Christmas, she knocked loudly on the door and stepped back a pace.

Several minutes passed and there was no answer. She huffed in annoyance and knocked again, waiting for a reply. When none came once more, she banged loudly on it withher fist, her patience quickly wearing away. After another minute or two of obnoxious pounding, she thought she heard footsteps, but didn't relent until the door swung open. Before her stood George Weasley, but he wasn't nothing like the George she, or anyone else, knew. He was thin, slightly bent with sagging shoulders, shaggy and extremely unkempt hair, dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, which had an awful, haunted look in them. Hermione's irritation melted away instantly as she took in his appearance.

"Hermione?"he said, giving her a funny look and blinking several times.

"Happy Christmas, George," she said, smiling nervously but trying to make herself look confident.

"Happy Christmas to you as well, I s'pose," he returned rather halfheartedly. "Do youneed something?"

"I'm making you Christmas dinner, since you won't go to the Burrow," she said in a commanding tone.

George looked surprised by this and merely stared. "You're making… dinner?" he said.

"Yes,"Hermione replied, "and, by the looks of it, you could do with some."

"I… fine, come in," he said, stepping aside so she could enter. The foyer was a small space, painted the brightest orange Hermione had ever seen. She smiled at it, thinking of the magenta robes Fred and George had worn while working their shop. She took off her heavy winter coat, hanging it on a rack that bore a certain resemblance to a dodo bird. She suppressed a laugh as she looked at it, then turned to George.

"Can you show me where the kitchen is?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," he said, leading her out of the entry way and to a small but very comfortable kitchen. It wasn't very messy and looked as though it hadn't been used it months. _Which is probably true_, thought Hermione sadly, observing a small takeout container from a restaurant down the Alley.

"It's lovely," she said, unloading the food from her bag. "I brought ham, mashed potatoes, gravy, steamed broccoli, and pudding for afterwards. I hope you like that. I just grabbed what I thought would be nice and came."

"It sounds fine," George said, and Hermione winced at how hollow his voice sounded. She began getting the food ready, putting the ham in the oven and completing the other dishes quickly, cast a heating charm, then bustled to put the pie she had brought in the refrigerator. George just watched, staying completely silent and still on the edge of the kitchen.

"Where do you keep your silverware, plates, and glasses?" Hermione asked him as she rifled through drawers full of everything but the objects in question. George walked over and opened two cabinets and a drawer, then returned to his post. Hermione thanked him and began carrying things to the small dining room. She conjured a nice white table cloth, realizing she hadn't brought one, and laid the places. She hurried back and forth, carrying food and napkins, a bottle of elf wine (Mrs. Weasley had mentioned it was his favorite and, with that in mind, she had picked it up), and, finally, the ham. "It's all ready," she said to George, who followed her and sat down.

Dinner was a quiet affair as well. George seemed to like the food – or, at least, he didn't dislike it, Hermione noted with pleasure. It was only after they had finished dessert that he spoke.

"Why?"

Hermione looked up in surprise. "What?" she said, confused by his question.

"Why did you come?"

Guilt surged through Hermione and she looked down in embarrassment to hide her pink cheeks. "Well, I know your mum didn't want anyone to come over, but it's Christmas, and no one should have to be alone on Christmas. I know you and I don't know each other well and I apologize for barging in and -"

"Don't," George said quietly. Hermione stopped, flushing crimson.

"Sorry," she said. "I'll just go then."

"Wait," George said, grabbing her wrist as she stood. "I didn't mean that. I meant you don't have to apologize."

Hermione paused, and comprehension spread across her face. "Oh," she said, sitting down again. "So... you don't mind that I just invited myself and forced you to eat my food?"

The edge of George's lips quirked upward for a split second, but fell back into a frown so quickly Hermione thought she might have imagined it.. "No," he answered truthfully. "It was great. Most people ignore me now. They say I need space... but I'm not sure that's it. I don't think they can look at me without remembering... him." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and gripping the edge of the table with a pained look on his face. Hermione placed a hand over his, and smiled at him as his eyes opened and he looked at her.

"It's going to be okay," she said. "Maybe not yet, or for a little while, but it will be alright. Trust me."

George hesitated before nodding. "Some day," he said.

"He wouldn't want you to be so sad," Hermione said. "He'd probably smack you upside the head and tell you that you were behaving like a total prat and that you needed to get your act together. Probably say something about seeing some pretty girls and playing Quidditch, along with pranking just about everyone you can think of - twice." George looked at her, his dark, sapphire blue eyes looking desparate and hurt. Hermione looked back at him, somehow unable to break the connection. Finally, he nodded again.

"You're right," he said weakly, looking down at his hand. "I'm pathetic."

"No! No, George, you are not pathetic!" Hermione cried, standing up and going to kneel beside his chair. She turned his face to look at her and said, "Listen to me, George. You are many things. Hilarious, troublesome, rich, brilliant, handsome, loyal, brave, and so much more. But you are not pathetic. You are so strong - I don't know if I could handle something as hard as you are going through now. But I know that you can because you are an amazing guy. Don't beat yourself up about this - you can do it."

George stared at her once more, looking dumbfounded. "And here I thought you didn't know me," he whispered. Hermione blushed and looked away.

"I guess I lied a little," she said.

"Everyone does sometimes," he said. "I just hope you were telling the truth about thinking I'm handsome." Hermione blushed even more.

"I think that's an undeniable truth," she replied. And for the first time that evening, George really smiled.

Things would get better.

**A/N: This is the first of four parts to this story/collection I'm writing for the 1, 2, 3, 4 Seasons Challenge, in which I use general promps, specific prompts, seasons, and lyrics as inspiration. The lyrics I used for this one are at the top and are from a song by one of my favoirte bands, Avenged Sevenfold.**

**Please review with feedback/critiques/etc. Thanks bunches!**

**-Naomi**


	2. Autumn

_November 5, 1999_

The day dawned cool, bright, and shining with the prospect of something exciting to come. Hermione slept very little during the night leading up to it and awoke very early in the morning. She waited impatiently for her clock to strike seven, pacing across her flat until Crookshanks, who was watching from the sofa, became dizzy from her movement and fell over. She then found herself unable to wait any longer and, seeing it was only five 'til, she floo'd to George's flat. She spun about and appeared in his fireplace, stepping out and finding George wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

"Hermione!" he yelped in surprise.

"George!" Hermione cried, blushing scarlet and turning her head away. "Sorry! I was just bored stiff at my flat and figured it was only a couple minutes… but I should have asked first, I'm so sorry –"

"It's fine," George said, laughing. "I don't mind, honestly, but you don't seem too comfortable. Can't imagine why, seeing as I am a very handsome wizard and deserve to be ogled rather than avoided." This only made Hermione blush even more. "Your robes are in the break room. Why don't you go and get them on while I put on a couple extra articles of clothing?"

"Okay," Hermione said, shutting her eyes and shuffling blindly to the door. She silently thanked heaven that she had been there enough to be able to navigate without her eyes. When she reached it, she hurried down, slipping on her magenta robes and walking out into the shop. It had been, in the past three months, restored to its former glory. The shelves were stocked with hundreds of pranks, both new and old. It was an array of nearly every color imaginable and reminded Hermione of how George had been before the war – before Fred had died.

In the time that had passed since Christmas, George had improved drastically. It was slow, but Hermione had expected that and was willing to go at the speed George required to recover. She had begun by only visiting a couple hours once a week, bringing him dinner and forcing him to talk with her. She slowly increased the length and number of visits until she was visiting every day, slowly so as not to overwhelm him. In early August, he agreed to reopen the shop and began working on preparing the pranks and displays. On her birthday, he, without informing her of his plans, attended dinner at the Burrow. To her, there was no better present to be offered.

Despite these decisions and actions, however, few people still interacted with him. He came every other week to dinner at the Burrow, sticking close to Hermione and seeming ill at ease. He rarely left the shop or flat, Hermione being sent on most shopping and lunch errands. Occasionally, someone from his family would drop by, but the visits were never long. Today would be a huge step. Seeing as it was the grand re-opening of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, he would have to interact with hundreds of people every day. Hermione had convinced George to give her a job, insisting it was only because he would need help and she wanted to support him. She conveniently left out the fact that over the past ten months, she had begun to develop quite a crush on him – it wasn't hard to believe, she thought. He was handsome, funny, caring…. Pushing thoughts over her hopeless love life out of her mind, she returned her thoughts to the shop, which would be opening in an hour.

She began walking through the store, checking to make sure everything was in place while she was waiting for George. She came across a large chest that she didn't' recognize and pulled it open. Inside was, to her horror, a skeleton. She let out a shriek and backed up several steps, right into someone. She let out another cry as she twisted around and saw George grinning down at her.

"Okay there?" he asked, laughing.

"No," she said, "there's a skeleton over there!" She pointed at the chest, in which laid the bones. George just laughed again. She frowned and turned around to see it standing up and beginning to sing one of Celestina Warbeck's songs. She blushed. "Oh," she said. "Oops." George gave her a hug, smiling happily at her.

"Thanks for offering to help," George said. "You're the best, Hermione."

"It isn't a huge deal, you know," Hermione said, looking around the shop fondly. "It's going to be fun!"

~.~.~.~.~

"Oh sweet Merlin that was crazy," moaned Hermione, collapsing onto George's sofa after they closed.

"Poor Hermione underestimated her new career," George teased, sitting beside her. She snorted.

"Nah, just the energy of a hundred under eleven year old magic kids," Hermione retorted. George laughed.

"They're tricky sometimes," he admitted, "but kids are great.""

"They really are," Hermione agreed, a slightly dreamy look creeping over her features. George gazed at her, looking hypnotized, for a few seconds, before grinning once more.

"Hey, Hermione?"

"Yeah?" she replied, breaking her little trance and turning her head to look at her.

"Would you like to go out to dinner with me?"

She paused, looking at him in surprise. "Like a date?" she asked.

"Er, yes," George said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, hardy daring to believe he was asking her out. Then she allowed herself to smile. "I would love to," she said. "I'll go change out of these robes and then we can go, yes?" George nodded enthusiastically and Hermione stood, leaving the room just in time to miss the victory dance that George performed behind her.

**A/N: Part two! Autumn: an achievement. I used the prompt 'bones' for this part :)**

**I hope you like it! The next two parts will be along fairly soon.**

**Oh, and DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, Hermione, George, WWW, or anything like that. Sad. But true.**

**-Naomi**


	3. Summer

"**The color fades enough to make out pictures of a fire"**

_**-Standing in Front of You (Kelly Clarkson)**_

**~.~.~.~.~.~**

_August 18, 2000_

Sit. Wait three seconds. Stand. Pace twice. Sit. Wait three seconds. Stand. Pace twice. Sit. Wait three seconds. Stand.

Six o'clock had never seemed so far away.

George ran a hand through his hair as he paced a second time, glancing at his watch. Only a minute. Last time he'd been a minute early, she hadn't been ready. He couldn't mess anything up tonight – it had to be perfect. She deserved perfect. So he would wait for the last minute.

Sit. Wait three seconds. Stand. Pace twice.

Only thirty seconds left.

Sit. Wait three seconds. Stand. Pace twice.

Ten left.

Pace five times.

Six o'clock.

George apparated from his flat to the mat right outside of Hermione's and knocked, tapping his fingers against his leg. As he heard the sound of the door being unlocked, his hand flew to his pocket. It was still there. Nothing was wrong yet. The door opened and Hermione stood there, wearing a simple pair of jean shorts and red t-shirt. George stared at her with a somewhat vacant expression, until he realized that she was speaking and he hadn't heard a word she had said. She paused, placing a hand on her hip and giving him a funny look. She also knew that he hadn't really been listening.

There went perfect.

"Are you even listening?" she asked, eyes scanning his face for the telltale signs of a lie.

"Er, no," he replied in an embarrassed but completely honest voice. "Sorry."

She grinned. "You've finally stopped lying," she said in a sing-song voice. "Oh glorious day!" She laughed, and then said, "Are you ready?"

"Absolutely," George replied, grabbing her and giving her a tight hug, before planting a very firm kiss on her lips. As soon as he did this, he could feel his fears beginning to melt away. She stepped back once he had pulled back, smiling widely.

"Any particular reason for that?" she asked.

"I haven't seen you for two days," he replied innocently. She merely laughed and flicked her wand at the door, causing it to shut and lock itself. Then she intertwined her fingers in his.

"Let's get going then," she said. George nodded and apparated the pair of them to a very large, open meadow. He led her to a spot a few feet away on top of a hill that overlooked a small pond, on which there were a few ducks swimming idly across the water. He grinned at the little creatures and turned to face Hermione, who was gazing at the picnic blanket and supper George had – all by himself, he was proud to say – prepared.

"Do you like it?" he asked, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. She spun in his grip and kissed him, hands immediately flying to his hair while he, somewhat surprised but nonetheless pleased, held her close. When they separated, both a little out of breath, she beamed at him.

"It's perfect," she said.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

It was dark by the time the young couple had finished their supper (if asked, they would have denied that they had wasted an hour and a half snogging, but it was, as with most adult couples, quite true). As the minutes ticked by, George found himself getting more and more nervous and checking his pocket more and more often. They decided to take a quick walk around the little hill they were situated on and, when they returned to the spot, remained standing. When the sun had finally set all the way and it was very dark, he pulled out his wand and cast a quick spell. Hermione turned to say something to him just as a loud bang was heard above them. She gasped and looked up, temporarily blinded by the light that flashed before her. It quickly faded enough so that she could see that, instead of a gun or hex as she had been expecting, fireworks were going off in the sky above them. She watched them dance in the inky sky was a dazzled expression while George watched her, carefully observing to make sure that she enjoyed it. After exactly six minutes and thirty four seconds, the colored light display stopped. Hermione continued gazing upward for a few seconds longer, as if expecting more. Then, suddenly, another burst of color flooded the sky. It took Hermione to realize that the sparkling lights formed words:

_Turn around_

She turned around in confusion and then saw that George, looking slightly pale and shaky, had a little box clutched in his hand and had dropped to one knee. She let out a little gasp.

"Hermione," he began, "you are the most beautiful, intelligent, funny, occasionally intimidating, and absolutely perfect girl that I have ever met. I know I don't say it nearly as often as I should, but I love you more than anything else in the world. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, despite my reluctant and terrible behavior near the beginning. I can't imagine my life without you, and I want to be with you for the rest of my life." Then he took the little velvet encased box and opened it, revealing a stunning diamond ring. "Will you marry me?"

Hermione's eyes watered and she beamed at him, nodding enthusiastically. "Of course I'll marry you," she exclaimed, throwing herself at him and kissing him. He held her with one hand while the other took the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. Then he lifted her off her feet slightly, a thrill rushing through him. She had actually said yes! The hours of panic had paid off. And though the evening hadn't been exactly perfect, he thought, noting the slight drizzle of rain that had passed over for a minute or two while they walked, it had turned out in the best way possible. This was all he wanted, all he needed; this was how things were supposed to be. Him and Hermione. Engaged. Soon to be married. Living together and having children, growing old, having grandchildren. Being together for the rest of their lives.

This was as close to perfection as he needed.

**A/N: Part three is finished! Only one part left! I know this is a short story (type thing), but I've really loved writing each part. And I'll be sad (but happy, ya know?) when it's over.**

**Lots of thanks to Laux14 for creating the competition I wrote this for!**

**I'm not entirely sure I like the second to last paragraph.. If I think of a way to fix it, I will. For now, however, I'll just leave it and hope you aren't offended by its terrible-ness.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hermione or George. Blah.**

**Lots of love is being sent to you reviewers! And followers! And favorite-ers! (Yeah. That's a word as of right now.) **

**-Naomi**


End file.
